If You Feel Like Letting Go
by PMFM
Summary: When Phoebe thinks that Helga may be having problems she isn't sharing, she gets experienced, uh, spies to help her out. One of those common Helga-suicide themes, only a little different...
1. Experienced Assistance

If You Feel Like Letting Go  
  
To put it in short terms, what is up with all of these Helga-suicide things? They are everywhere! Personally, I think that Helga is way to strong for that kind of thing, but then I also see that she gets hurt a lot, too. So... why not combine my beliefs with some extra stuff in it? This is just a one-shooter, but there you are. The title comes from 'Hold On' by Good Charlotte. You should see the video. I know it kind of dives into it very quickly, but I'm making this one part and it has a lot to go through. This is possibly my least insanity-driven fic, okay? Cool.

I do not own "Hey, Arnold!" or any characters, names, or items from the cartoon. I also do not own 'Hold On'. Good Charlotte and whatever their record company is do.

This World Is Cold  
  
  
"So, Helga," said Phoebe. "Do you want to go over to my house to study for our Algebra assessment tomorrow?"

Helga and Phoebe were walking down the front stairs of their middle school, on their way home after another stressful day. Helga bit her lip and replied naturally, "No, Pheebs. I'm going to go home and do my work. I just..." She sighed, plainly. "I just think I can do it better alone."  
Phoebe nodded, understanding that lately, Helga had been wanting to have more and more alone time. She still didn't know what the problem was, though. Helga seemed quite cheerful.

Apparently, her mother had started to pack her lunch or give her enough money for one, and she always got to school on time. However, she noticed that she was tired a lot by their third period, and almost always fell asleep during fifth period.

"Oh, look," Phoebe said, thinking seriously about something, but not letting it show. "There's my ride." She pointed toward a blue SUV and silver PT Cruiser.  
Lifting an eyebrow, Helga said, "But your car isn't there."

"That's because it's behind the SUV," she answered quickly. "You can't see it from your angle, okay, I've got to go now, good luck on the test, bye!" She turned and started running to the area she had pointed to.

Left behind and still raising her eyebrows, Helga stared after her. "Gerald is making her weirder and weirder," she concluded, and walked on.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

"Okay, Phoebe, why did you ask us to meet you behind a bush in front of our school?" asked Gerald, crouching down and trying to get a branch out of his hair.

Phoebe, Gerald, and Arnold were all squatting down a few yards from the school. The woman of the group said, "Listen, guys, I know that you don't usually partake in conversing with Helga much anymore--"

"You got that right," snorted Gerald.

Arnold elbowed him in the ribs and glared at him. "Shut up," he mumbled. He turned his gaze toward Phoebe. She looked a mixture of worry, desperation, and curiosity, all stirred into seriousness. "What's the deal with her?" he asked concernedly.

Phoebe exhaled, searching for words. "I think that there is something the matter with her. I don't know what, which is why I asked for your assistance."

Now Gerald was interested. "What do you mean," he asked, "our 'assistance'?"

"I have a plan to find out what is wrong," she said simply. "We are going to espionage. We're going to follow her and see why everything seems so cheerful with her, yet she's always tired, over-burdened, and et cetera. We're going to start at her house and--"

"Sorry for interrupting," Arnold said, "but how do you know she's being over-loaded? How do you know that she just isn't an insomniac?"

Phoebe looked meaningfully at Arnold. "That is the purpose of our mission. To find out if anything is wrong, anything at all! I've been reading up on mental health recently, and I'm frightened for her. I apologize to you two if it turns out to be nothing, but I really need you for this."

"Why?" asked Gerald.

Phoebe looked at him with the same determination and desperation Arnold saw in her eyes. "You guys have experience in this kind of situation. Everyone knows it, too. You two are the best of the best in this neighborhood at spying, stealth, and figuring things like this out. Gerald, Arnold, will you aid me?" 

"Of course," said Arnold. "I just hope that nothing really is wrong."

"Yeah, me, too," Gerald said slowly. "Are you sure that she'll be at her own house?  
Phoebe nodded. "Yes. She has too many books in her backpack to go anywhere else of importance without dropping them off somewhere. Come on. We have to hurry if we want to beat her there."  
!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Halfway to her house, Helga paused and took a moment to look around her. Seeing that no one was in range to hear or see her clearly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small locket. It was a smaller version of an old one, with a newer picture inside of it. It was shaped like a heart. She looked into it, expressionless, because she was deep in her mind, fantasizing. Finally, she frowned and shook her head sadly. She placed the locket back into her pocket.

She turned to the other pocket and pulled out a wad of ten dollar bills. She looked at it with the same face as she did the locket. Slowly, she began to look determined. She returned to her walk, going at a faster pace.

!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?!@#$%^&*()_+{}:"?

Arnold was running ahead, with Phoebe behind him and Gerald in the back. Arnold knew a shortcut to Helga's block that went through a trail of alleys and fences.

"Hey, guys," he panted. "Are any of... your parents... expecting you home?"

"No!" yelled Phoebe. "I thought of this last night and said I was going to Gerald's."

"Same here!" said Gerald. He jumped over a cardboard box that had fallen from a Dumpster. "I was supposed to go to the library to study for that test tomorrow. Looks like I got... other plans."  
They reached a wire fence that was taller than any of them. Gerald climbed up with ease, and so did Arnold. Phoebe had a little more trouble with it, though.

Gerald reached over the top and took her hand. "Here you go," he said strained, using his strength to pull her up. "Up and at 'em, Pheebs."

She reached the top and the two of them jumped down. "Thank you, Gerald."

They continued to race to Helga's house as fast as they possibly could. In no time, they were at the side of her house.

"Shh," warned Phoebe, leaning over the corner to find Helga. She popped back quickly. "She's coming," she whispered.

The three of them hid as they watched Helga walk to her front door and cross the framing into the house. Arnold motioned for Gerald to give him a boost to the kitchen window, to tall for his thirteen-year-old build. Phoebe climbed carefully onto a trash can.

"So, we're spying on Helga to find out what her after-school schedule has been like lately because you feel like she may have some sort of internal problem that we can solve just by watching her, and risking a very good pounding if we are caught." Gerald shook his head and winced under Arnold's weight. "I feel like I'm in a book or something."

"Gerald, if you are going to help," said Phoebe, "then please refrain from speaking!"

"Translation: Shut up," said Arnold. "Hey, she's coming into the kitchen."

Phoebe starched just enough so that both eyes could see past the window frame. Helga had plopped her backpack on a counter stool. What Phoebe saw made her gasp. The counter and breakfast table were covered in beer cans and bottles, fast food bags, cigarette packs, and coffee mugs. Helga didn't take a second look at any of it before she walked to the refrigerator and opened it. Half of the area inside was resided for more alcohol, but there was some space for leftovers, milk, soda, and condiments. She took out some bread, that was apparently misplaced, and a can of soda. She moved up to the freezer, which was packed with frozen dinners and the occasional frozen vegetable bag. She pulled out frozen lasagna and set it on the counter. Opening her soda, she started to read the instructions. She pulled her blond hair back and opened the oven door. A strand of hair fell into her face as she stuffed it in. 

"Oh, my God," whispered Arnold. "What in the name of all good things happened to her house?" 

Phoebe gasped again and covered her mouth. She couldn't believe how trashed her best friend's house was after her last visit.

"What is it?" asked Gerald. "What's wrong with the room?"

"Everything," Phoebe said, a harsh tone in her voice. She was angry. What had caused this?  
Helga set the timer and pushed the volume up to its loudest tone. She then ran up the stairs into her room, leaving her backpack.

"I don't think she's going to study right now," said Arnold.

"What happened?" Gerald asked again. "What's up?"

Phoebe jumped from the trash can and stormed quietly to the next window. "The room is filthy, she's making dinner, and she didn't even have to say hi to her mom. Do you know what that means?" she asked, turning around furiously.

Arnold stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. "It means that her family life is even worse than it was before," he concluded. "Her parents have finally hit an all time low." He kicked a can lightly. 

"Something tells me," said Gerald slowly, "that that isn't the worst of it. What caused her parents to go all insane like that, man?"

"Let's just check out the living room," stressed Phoebe. She walked over to the next window and reached up on her toes to see. For the third time, she sucked in a breath in surprise.  
It wasn't just her mother sitting there asleep on the couch, but her father as well. Usually he was at his job at Big Bob's Beepers, but instead he was in his pajamas, lazily watching a movie on HBO. The floor was littered with fallen ash trays and a few beer cans. 

They all stared in awe at the former Beeper King. "What the heck happened?" asked Gerald.

No one answered him, at least not immediately. Finally, Arnold shook his head. "We have to find out what happened to him," he concluded. "Maybe it'll help us find out what happened to Helga." Everyone had accepted the fact that Helga was, in fact, different. Arnold seemed almost as mad and determined as Phoebe.

Phoebe glared and tried to hold back tears. Then she lifted her head and strained her ears. She turned toward Gerald and Arnold and said quickly, "Get back!" Just in time, they moved into a shadow as they saw Helga walk down the sidewalk with a pad of paper, an old shirt, and a case of what was most likely pencils and art supplies. "She's going somewhere," she said, moving forward, her fencing training coming out in the swiftness in her feet. "Where, however, is still a mystery."

"No, duh," said Gerald, creeping up behind her. Then, sincerely, he grasped her shoulders and looked at her. "We'll follow her, okay? No worries, babe."

Phoebe looked grateful, but didn't yet smile. She shook her head and said, "Come on. We need to follow her. Stay back, though, to stay out of hearing range."

"Of course," said Arnold. He moved out and started walking in Helga's direction. Phoebe and Gerald exchanged glances and hurried after him.

Yeah, so there it is. It's like 12 midnight, I've been having this in my inbox forever and finally finished the last four paragraphs, and I'm not feeling insane anymore. Hmm... interesting... Hey, somebody get a test tube out, something freaky is going on. Wait. ~raids fridge and cabinet and pulls out chocolate bars, Starbuck's double chocolate mocha frappuchinos, Jumbo Sugar Sticks, and, of course, Marky-O's~ YAHOO! Well, anyway, tell me how you like it! I think it's revolutionary! Later!

Your Resident Lunatic Asylum Member

Phebga Madame Fortress Mommy  



	2. Kylie's First Secret

If You Feel Like Letting Go  
  
Hi, everyone. Thanks for liking me, really liking me! ~Grins~ Okay, down to business. Helgagurl46, thanks for the comment. Hope this is equally as interesting, odd, but cool. thanks, too, Sara.

Disclaimer: I'm a almost thirteen year old girl with the intelligence of a eleven year old. I'm insane. I cannot draw. The only people I've ever created myself are Kylie and Lily in this original I'm writing that is so unoriginal. Can I create a cartoon other insane people write about? ~Grabs face by the cheeks and moves head side to side~ Noooooo.

Helga had her drawing pad, pencils, charcoal, and oil paints in her arms and was walking down the street. She continued until she reached an alley with very tall buildings on both sides. She turned to her right at the end of the alley and opened a door camouflaged into the wall (it was painted the same color, etc.). She looked around her quickly, as though making sure she was alone, and walked into the dimly lit room.

On the corner of the building, a pale head with dark hair popped out. Phoebe motioned behind her and Gerald and Arnold also came up. The walked into the alley and stood in front of the door, hesitant to go in. 

"What do you think she's doing here?" asked Arnold, purely curious.

Phoebe shrugged. "I have no possible idea, but it is most possibly something isn't very good for her."

They stayed there for an extra moment.

"Are we going to keep following her or not?" asked Gerald with a hint of impatience. The others nodded and he pulled the door open.

They stepped into a hallway with off-yellow walls that were obviously not painted that way. There were wooden doors large distances away running down both sides. They saw one ahead of then open, and then closed. Phoebe pointed forward. "That's her," she said.

"Come on," said Arnold. He started to walk hastily down the hall, leaving Phoebe and Gerald to exchange glances and follow.

When they reached the door, they cracked it open to peek inside, Phoebe on the bottom, Arnold in the middle, Gerald on top. They could see Helga signing in at a desk, where a receptionist (or something of that nature) was speaking to her.

"A lot of our clients have asked your age," she said to her, "and none of them can believe that you are so talented for a seventeen year old."

Helga smiled a bit and looked up. "Thanks. They bought some, right?"

The woman nodded and showed Helga a piece of paper. "So far, you got seventy-eight dollars worth of sales at our last showing. We are going to have another in three days, so we need you to stay here tomorrow for at least an hour or so to finish up your one piece of work."

Helga looked down and said, "Do I have to? I, uh, have something to, um, do tomorrow. Actually, I think this may even be my last day, so I'm not going to be able to make it."

"You cannot quit, Kylie," ordered the woman. "We have clients who have already lined up a list for your work."

Helga leaned her head and looked straight at the woman. "Well, that's too bad, Lynn," she said. "I have a life, and it's not going to last forever. Give me my money's worth tonight after I'm done and let me go to my subject."

At the door, Phoebe's jaw dropped. Arnold furrowed his eyebrows is confusion. "Seventeen?" he asked aloud, frustrated. "Kylie? What is she doing?"

Phoebe bit her lip. "She apparently is lying about her name and age in order to have a sort of job to make money," she hypothesized. 

"Yeah, and I have a pretty good idea why," said Gerald, grasping the door.

"Me, to," Arnold and Phoebe said concurrently. 

"We know that something's up with her parents," said Arnold. "Whatever it is, though..." he sighed, "we're gonna find out."

Phoebe moved from underneath the boys, followed by Arnold and Gerald. "Change your names," she hissed. She walked casually yet obviously shyly to the desk. The woman looked up and, not waiting for a word, Phoebe said, "Hello, we're here to see... uh, Kylie. She just came in here. May we go see her?"

Lynn looked suspicious. "Who are you?

"Uh..." said Arnold. "I'm, uh, Tim, this-" he pointed to Gerald, "-is Dan, and she is Jenny." He pointed to Phoebe. He smiled stupidly.

Lynn seemed to buy it. She pointed to one of the three doors in the room. "That is where Kylie is. Knock first." She went back to reading a magazine.

They all looked at each other and walked toward the door. Gerald was about to open the door when Phoebe whispered, "Wait. We can't just stroll inside. We have to do what we did at the front door."

Gerald gave her a look that said okay-but-we-can't-exactly-do-that-either. "Lynn would see us hiding from her and know we weren't invited by Helga."

"Oh, yes, there's that," said Phoebe. She grinded her teeth, trying to think. "Um... I think we have a flaw in our plan," she finally said.

Arnold rolled his eyes. "Come on, guys," he said. "We got this far, so what are we going to do?"

The three of them looked around, contemplating possible plans. Phoebe bit her lip and looked down at a corner in the room. She looked up absentmindedly and focused in on something. An idea came into her head and she smiled. "I have a proposal of something we could do."

Gerald turned to her and asked, "What?"

She pointed to the spot she was looking at. "We need to get out of this room," she said, "if you know what I mean."

Arnold followed the trail of the sight and smiled. "You're becoming so devious, Pheebs," he observed. He turned to the woman at the desk and said, "We just remembered how important her work is," he said. "We won't disturb her."

Lynn lifted an eyebrow and looked at them oddly. She dismissed it and let them leave without a another word.

~~~

"Is it in that room?"

"No, just another lady at a desk."

"Ew. Uh, don't look in that door. That's un-rated art."

"Not in here, either."

"I found it!" cried Gerald. He opened a door wider to reveal a darkened room with televisions all over the place. "They have some nice security cameras for a shabby place," he complemented.

Phoebe and Arnold smiled and followed Gerald into the room. The started skimming over screens, trying to find the room that Helga was in. Arnold pointed to one and said, "Don't look at that."

Phoebe rolled her eyes and continued looking. "Here," she said. "She has a model inside with walled windows. Two angles. She using coal to make a drawing."

The two boys bent over to look at the screen. Arnold whistled. "She's good."

"Yes, she's quite talented, but look at the model's position." She pointed to a girl reasonably older than Helga. She was leaning against the wall, standing very still with one arm over her head, grabbing her hair, and another around the waist. Her expression was one that looked like she was about to cry. Helga was almost finished with the charcoal outline, and underneath the girl, over to the left, was a phrase that was unreadable at the distance it was at.

"Can one of you zoom in on that right there," she said, touching the screen where the words were. Arnold found a set of buttons going up and down and hit one of them a few times. 

"It won't go any farther," he said. "Not without a computer." He pulled back to original frame. He sighed and crossed his arms. "However talented she is, the colors she's using on her make it disturbing." She had started to color in the picture. Arnold looked at it with as much anxiety as Phoebe. Gerald bit his lip in concern.

"Come on," said Phoebe. "We can't exactly remain here forever."

"She's right," said Gerald. "My eyes hurt from staring at that phrase there, trying to read it."

Phoebe looked at Gerald and rolled her eyes. "Not funny, Gerald. We need to go back to her house and try to find out what's up with her parents."

Gerald nodded. "I know. I'm trying to lighten the mood."

"Gerald, I like you, okay?" said Phoebe. "Just don't try to lighten the mood right now."

"Okay," replied Gerald. "Sorry."

"Let's go, guys," said Arnold. The three of them walked out of the room. Suddenly, Arnold stopped. "Why didn't that room have a security guard?"

Gerald and Phoebe turned around to face Arnold. "I don't know," they said.

Arnold shrugged and the three of them walked out of the building and into the alley. They turned down the sidewalk and saw a city bus right only a few yards down. They all looked at each other and silently agreed to save the shin pains.

When they got to Helga's house, Gerald was the first on the stoop. He lifted his hand and was about to knock when Phoebe interrupted him. "Wait. Just walk in."

Gerald looked won at Phoebe. Can I open doors without you giving me permission or not?"

"Sorry. Come on. I hope her parents don't hear us, like they would," she said disgusted

"I seriously doubt that they will," said Arnold angrily. It turns out they were able to walk inside, go up the stairs, and walk into the den.

"This is not her room!" said Phoebe. "We need to go in-"

Arnold held up his hand. "Her parents don't hide clues in her room, Phoebe," he explained.

Phoebe looked embarrassed. "Oh, yeah," she said quietly.

They looked around the upper den for a while, trying to find why Helga's dad was out of it (Miriam always was, so no surprise there). Gerald even tried to get on their computer, but there was a password.

Phoebe walked around the room she had been in many times with Helga, rubbing her hand over the shelves and desk. Then something caught her eye. She picked it up and read what it said. She gasped, "Guys, come here immediately."

I LOVE CLIFF HANGARS! You know, if anybody else reads this. Read BSSEI, too. And Query. My three favorites. Please? anyway, the next chapter will be up very soon, but I need to let Briana have her turn, so later!

Your Resident Lunatic Asylum Member

Phebga Madame Fortress Mommy


End file.
